


A Quiet Revelation

by raspberrylimonade



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Titans (Comics)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 06:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18405077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrylimonade/pseuds/raspberrylimonade
Summary: “Whatever he wants,” she wavers, “I won’t let him get to you that way.”Easy for her to say, when she knowsheis not the real problem, the bigger problem.Robin turns to look at her, his eyes bearing into hers like a man searching for answers in a reflecting pool.“What about you?” he asks.





	A Quiet Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> RobRae week 2019  
> Day 1: "I worry about you."
> 
> Set sometime after "Birthmark", before "The Prophecy", and imagines them a little older than they are portrayed to be in the show.

She finds him always close to her ever since _that day_ \- a shadow hovering over her shoulder, a presence lingering in the corner of her mind.

It’s not just that their _bond,_ as he so called it, had flared up during the ordeal. It was as if he was actively reaching out now, constantly feeling for her presence through the empathic link.

And then there’s the constant need for affirmation. They have never needed much words to communicate, both prefering to operate silently, and knowing enough about each other to pick up on non-verbal cues. Now he is always going through her - _does the battle plan work for you? Is the team’s choice of dinner okay with you? Everything alright?_ Or even just staring at her until she nods in approval.

There is a change in the air between them, and she’s not sure where it comes from, if he is really keeping closer tabs on her or if she’s more attuned to him after what they went through.

At the moment, he is just emanating the way he always does when he becomes obsessed with something. She would feel the churn of anger, frustration, paranoia, and repressed exhaustion on the other side of the tower if she put her mind to it. Right now, with him twenty feet away, in the same room, and their bond intensified, his tumultuous emotions crash over her like waves without her lifting a mental finger.

She sets her empty mug on the kitchen counter and starts making her way over to where he is poised on the couch. He is literally on the edge of the seat, torso leaning forward as he stares intently at the reports on the screen before him.

There is a shift in his emotional landscape as she approaches him, the moment she knows he is aware of her presence, as if the waves have drawn back from shore, but the storm has not completely cleared. There is something else brewing out at sea, something Raven can’t quite place.

Robin turns his head over his shoulder to acknowledge her. His mask is removed yet his face still unreadable. He stands as she joins him, and she scans the holographic projection he had been focused on so intensely. The reports are about the state of the city after the day’s events. Another attack on Jump, another battle for the Titans. The other members had opted to continue attending to damages following their post-battle check-ups, while Raven remained in the tower to recuperate from healing all their injuries. Robin stayed for reasons unknown, perhaps an odd fact, but Raven was somewhat glad. He was the only one who would comprehend the worrying detail of numerous blazes that persisted after the action had died down, stranding citizens and destroying infrastructure. The numbers before them do not look optimistic.

“They’ll be fine,” she says, though it isn’t clear if she is trying to convince him or herself.

She once would fancy an empty tower, but now the quiet is unsettling, probing her anxiety that one of them may not return. Fire, lately, has only meant one thing, the thought of which rattles her to the core. It’s as if _he_ is taunting her, showing her what will inevitably transpire when the time comes.

Robin sighs and reaches for the remote. The projection clicks off, leaving them with a view of the city. The bright but flat afternoon light feels oddly static given the chaos they have witnessed.

“I hope they don’t get any more trouble,” he says. “I just - I don’t know, the fire can’t be a coincidence. Now that - ”

Raven grimaces in anticipation of the name. He must pick up on her discomfort somehow, because his voice trails off.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she replies, her voice monotonous but the meaning sincere. “You are our leader, it is natural you worry about the team and the city.”

“I guess,” he murmurs.

She peels her gaze away from the skyline to look at him. He faces the large windows, but his gaze is downwards, head dipping slightly, his brows furrowed as he ruminates.

As she observes him, she picks up a mix of anger and confusion, underlain with a desperate need. They do not radiate strongly, most likely a state of emotions being recalled. The state she found him in that night when they forged the link between them.

Of course. She chides herself for being so callous, for thinking it is all about herself. She has her demons, yes, (literally,) but he does too. One demon, back again to haunt him.

Just the thought of _him_ strikes fear in Raven’s heart, but she swallows it down for Robin’s sake.

“Whatever he wants,” she wavers, “I won’t let him get to you that way.”

Easy for her to say, when she knows _he_ is not the real problem, the bigger problem.

Robin turns to look at her, his eyes bearing into hers like a man searching for answers in a reflecting pool.

“What about you?” he asks.

The question, coupled with his intense gaze, catches her off guard. It’s uncanny for her, and she trips over her reply.

He turns his body to completely face hers. “I worry about _you_.”

Four words. Four simple words, and a swelling sensation in her chest. Because there it is, out in the open for everyone to see, the reason why Robin is different from all the rest.

Her whole life, she has been a time bomb, a situation to handle, the people around her - even the kindest ones - more concerned about what she would one day do. That was until she met the Titans. Until she met Robin.

Robin was the first one to care about _her._

Even as he gets closer to her secret, still.

Her eyes lower at the revelation, unable to meet his, although she so wants to. “I can handle my own.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to.” He pauses, then adds, “You don’t have to be alone in this.”

He appears calm, but there is a tension in his body, as if he is restraining himself. Raven tilts her head, almosts gasps as the ghost of a hand covering hers flits across her mind.

Is that what he wants? To hold her, to give her his touch as a way of comfort. And yet he won’t, because he knows she isn’t one for any kind of body contact, and he respects her space.

He’s is right of course; she has always been grateful that he never questions her idiosyncrasies. And yet the notion that he wants to take her hand...and that she wouldn’t mind...she doesn’t know how to react to that.

So she deflects. “You’re one to talk.”

Robin, of course, is unfazed. “I have a team I can count on and I had to be reminded the hard way. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

If only there was a way to make him understand that he _can’t_ help her when the time comes. Not without getting dragged down into hell with her. This was preordained by things bigger than themselves.

“It’s complicated.” Her eyes flicker to the window, which in time would overlook a darker scenery, one of her own doing.

In the corner of her vision, Robin’s feet step closer to hers.

“I know,” he continues. “You don’t have to tell me everything right now. But it doesn’t change anything.

“I don’t know what happened that day. I only know I wasn’t there for you. I won’t let that happen again.”

His voice pleads for her to look at him, to realise how much he means what he says, but she can’t. How can she look him in the eye, knowing that all she will do is bring about his doom?

She takes a step back. “I can’t ask that much of you.”

_“Raven.”_

He reaches out this time, catches her before she can back too far away. Except catch is not quite the right word, not when his hand only brushes against her arm. Certainly not enough contact to stop her from leaving, but enough to beg her to stay.

“Whatever happens…”

“I’ll be fine,” she says gravelly.

_But you won’t be._

_It’s you I worry about, at the end._


End file.
